


Keep me

by bucciaratissun



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Mind Manipulation, Obsession, Therapy, Winter Soldier!Steve, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucciaratissun/pseuds/bucciaratissun
Summary: Hold me up into the light,Fix the cracks and fix them right.Please consider the tags before reading.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	Keep me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! In this one the reader has mind manipulation abilities that she uses to treat emotionally unstable people, but nothing goes easy with Steve Rogers, the man who had kidnapped her from Stark Tower.  
> Hope you enjoy this story!
> 
> As always, I'd be happy to see your feedback. And, of course, thanks for your kudos <3  
> Feel free to visit [my tumblr](http://giorno-plays-piano.tumblr.com) if you want to discuss anything related to Steve, Bucky and other Marvel characters!

He was always agitated before your sessions, pacing up and down like a caged tiger. His frustration didn't manifest itself on his stony face, but you knew Steve Rogers inside out. He was afraid it would not work, and in the end his demons would conquer and cage him once you would be gone. 

It was hard to imagine, though, as Steve had abducted you from Stark Tower and never left you alone ever since. Well, visits to the bathroom didn’t count. You had already been on the run for four months and Steve hardly planned to stop now when he finally learnt how to sleep. It was all thanks to your sessions, of course. 

“I’m almost ready.” You whispered to him and motioned to come closer. “Lay down, please.”

He marched back to you, his heavy steps echoing through the emptiness of the storage room. Your new hideout was in an abandoned factory somewhere in Indiana.

Steve placed himself on top of an old stinky mattress and laid down, his head on your lap, dark blue eyes boring into yours. You gently brushed his disheveled hair out of his face and gave him a half-smile: you were tired. It weren’t just the sessions, it was your constant moving from one place to another - no comfort offered to you as Steve kept driving for hours, sometimes even a day or more, in whatever car he could find. For a few times it was a motorcycle, and nothing felt worse than riding it from sunrise to sunset. It hurt you to even think about it now.

A bed had also become a luxury for you since you rarely stayed in apartments or motels. To think of it, today you were rather lucky Steve had found a mattress. Regardless of its smell, it was much softer than the cold concrete floor of the factory.

You dreamt of the times when it would be over. If it were ever to happen, it would be after you could heal Steve and get all Hydra’s stuff out of his head. It was a real challenge regardless of your abilities and a long experience of treating people like him, but you still had hope.

“Good. Yes, like that.” You murmured softly and closed your eyes, the warmth slowly enveloping you into an invisible cocoon.

It was a pity you could not use your own power for yourself, yet you were grateful you still experienced its effects partly when you treated someone else. Even if you didn’t need help as much as Steve, you were still a human being.

Usually you would say something like “close your eyes and imagine an ocean”, but it didn’t work well with Steve. He was something else. No war vet you had ever treated reacted like he did. No wonder it took you so much time and efforts to do the simplest things like making him sleep without nightmares. The progress was awfully slow.

“Listen to my voice, Steve.” You started humming a melody, listening his steady breath. “That’s right. You’re a good boy.”

You used the words his mother said when he was a child to trigger his memories. It was one of the few things that helped.

“Will you talk to me, Steve?”

“Yes.”

The first times he was saying “no” over and over again till your head hurt. You had gone a long way to make him open up, and yet you did not risk asking him too many questions even now. Each time it felt like pulling the trigger.

“How do you feel, Steve?”

“I am tired.”

Good. He was able to feel his body even before you left Stark Tower, but you were still glad there was no regress. Considering your constant moving and hiding, it could possibly affect his mental state.

“What have you been thinking about today, Steve?”

His eyes were open, pupils dilated. Normally your patients were relaxed, half asleep even, but not Steve. He had never been.

“We’ll be moving to Michigan. I need to buy food. I need to find the next safe house. I need 9×19mm Parabellum. I need to bring you new shoes. I need…”

He kept talking in monotonous voice like someone under hypnosis. You listened intently with the corners of your mouth turning up at the mention of your shoes. You left New York in your simple black sandals that almost got torn apart after fours months of constant moving. 

“… gas. I am afraid you’ll throw me away.”

“Stop.”

Steve froze, his mouth half open. You blinked a few times, confused and perplexed. What? Throw him away? What was that supposed to mean? You felt an urge to ask him instantly, but you were on shaky ground. Steve rarely spoke about his fears because the Soldier didn’t like it. It was a constant battle you were in since the day Steve Rogers came into your cabinet, and you were fighting still. It would be a great progress if the Soldier wouldn’t show up now, preventing the man to speak.

“Why would I throw you away, Steve?” You asked cautiously and gently stroked his cheeks.

“Because I am defective.” 

Oh God, it might take you more time you anticipated.

“Why are you defective, Steve?”

“Because I am not fully human.” 

Something was happening. Something was happening and you didn’t like it. Steve started gasping for air and shaking lightly on your lap – you only saw it for a few times, and those times you dug too deep. He might not be prepared to continue.

You decided to end this session, but before you opened your mouth he was speaking again.

“I am broken beyond repair. You can’t help. You will throw me away once you figure it out.” His shoulders started to tremble stronger and stronger. “You will throw me away, and I will die. The Soldier will die too. We will die and won’t ever come back.”

Steve’s mouth was fully open as if he wanted to scream, but you heard nothing except loud panting and strangle gurgling sounds. Shit, you had never gone that far. It never escalated to this point, and you needed to do something before you would lose control over him, and God know what would happen.

Was he… was he crying?

“Keep me!” His loud shout left you deeply terrified. “KEEP ME!”

You tensed up and tried to keep your composure, closing the distance between your faces. It wasn’t that easy since you were forced to hold him down with you own hands, Steve shaking feverishly, beads of cold sweat on his forehead. 

You bend so much your nose almost touched his own and then squeezed your eyes, concentrating all your warmth around Steve’s body to wrap him in it like a blanket. You needed to make him feel safe. His breakdown wouldn’t do him any good, but you were frightened of what could come after it and pushed your powers to the limits, whispering the words he could not understand to soothe him. 

You didn’t know how much time you spent in a trance like this, breathing into Steve’s face and calming him down little by little. When you took a hold of your own movements you suddenly realized you were tenderly kissing his face.

Why? You didn’t remember planning to do that. Well, sometimes you would occasionally kiss your patient on the forehead in a mother-like way to charm them more and make them feel secure, but it was never like this. It felt… odd. Like it was Steve and his unconsciousness that made you do it. 

“Fix me.” He said quietly, not shaking anymore, but you saw his eyes were still wet. “Please, fix me.”

“I’m keeping you.” You whispered to him and carefully wiped his tears with your fingertips. “I’m keeping you even if I won’t be able fix you. You’re safe with me. I won’t throw you away.”

Steve was breathing normally again, but you felt hazy. Something wasn’t right. The more strength he retrieved, the more drained and exhausted you were, your vision cloudy. Did you two synchronized so much he got inside you head? Was it Steve? Was it the Soldier? How could y…

He caught you when you almost fell on top of him, losing consciousness. He knew it was harder and harder for you each time, but you had never admitted it and instead claimed he was getting better. A part of him admired your willingness to help, a part of him hated you for lying to him because he knew he would never become his old self again.

But if you kept him, maybe he could live with it. If you kept him, he would be alright.


End file.
